iKeep a Sexy Secret
by Neon-GreenShoeLaces
Summary: Freddie Benson is about to get married to the love of his life. But will a bachelor's party planned by his buddies change that, when he meets a familiar face from his past with a dark secret? Rated T for now, may upgrade to M. Will be lemons but I will warn you of them and you can skip them during your reading and the story will be consistent.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly or anything, but you can always get it for me for my birthday :3**

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"Where are we going?" I cried, arms outstretched feeling around. Someone had put a blindfold over my eyes as they helped me into the limo. Another pair of hands passed me a bottle of beer, I supposed, and I took a swig. Good stuff.

"Don't worry about it, man," Gibby's voice rang in my ear… possibly to my right. I turned in that direction. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Fine," I muttered, and folded my arms to my chest. Secretly, I was glad. This must be my bachelor's party, my last night of man—gone—wild freedom. I had been anticipating this evening for a while… possibly the moment that I got engaged.

It's not as if my fiancé and I aren't happy; we are. She makes me feel better than anyone else has in a long time. Her eyes sparkle when they meet mine, and her kisses leave me begging for more. And believe me, I've begged, but I respect her wishes. I'm not _that_ kind of guy.

"Come on, man, it's going to be fun!" I heard Wes's voice from somewhere else in the car. "Whoo!" he cheered.

I took another gulp from the bottle. This was going to be a crazy time.

"A strip club?" I screeched, glaring at Gibby. He shrugged his shoulders and nodded, giving me puppy dog eyes. I shook my head immediately, and adamantly sat down on a bench outside. "You guys go, I'm not going in there."

"Pussy!" Rick jeered at me.

"Go look at them on your own, you don't need me for that," I muttered, disgustedly. Gibby knew my views on women and respecting them. I promised myself I would never step foot into something that degraded them in such a vulnerable way.

"Will this change your mind?" Gibby sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. It was a video clip- I tapped the play button.

"Hey Freddie-Beddie,"Carly's sweet voice echoed through the block. "I know where you are tonight- a strip club," she still smiled, yet it lost some of her glow. "And I want you to know it's _okay."_

I gasped. "How did you get her to agree to that?" Gibby shushed me and pointed to the screen.

"In fact, Mel and I are going to a male strip club for my bachelorette's party," she sheepishly admitted. "It's all in good fun, and tradition. Just as long as you don't sleep with any of them, I'm cool. I don't need the dirty details," she bit her lip and turned a lovely shade of rose.

Gibby turned off the phone and pulled me up off the seat. "Let's go!"

"To the women!" Rick yelped, running in the bar.

We all snorted and followed suit.

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**A/N: I haven't written an iCarly story in FOREVER! Review & tell me if I should keep going. I have two more chapters already, but if you guys don't like it I'm not going to keep it. thanks lovelies! xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own many pairs of neon shoe laces and posters of Nathan Kress, but I don't own iCarly. Yet.**

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"This is great!" I yelled to Gibby over the loud pulsating beat. And it was; we were sitting front row and had an excellent view. Three voluptuous girls were shaking all they had in front of us. One had tan skin and was dolled up as a Marine. Her large breasts were popping out of her tight top, and I beamed as she came over to ruffle my hair. I stuck a dollar in her cleavage and she blew me a kiss in appreciation. Gib was being entertained by a black woman with the sweetest ass I had ever seen, dressed as a Navy Seal. He placed a bill of his own in her garter and received a very close up look at her frilly thong. Wes and Rick were sharing (unhappily) a short red head with long legs and a tiny waist, wearing an Air Force uniform.

The patriotic song ended, and the ladies retreated backstage, and the men gathered around me. "We have a little surprise for you," Wes smirked.

Blood rushed to my head. "What?" I asked, fearing for my life.

"We rented a back room!" Rick and Gibby high-fived as I ferociously disagreed.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" Wes gaped at me. "We call the shots. You gave up your rights when you bought us all tequila shots."

They were right. I had barely any dignity left, although I was great at handling my alcohol. I had licked a stripper's belly button and danced with another, her hands squeezing my ass through my back pockets. I guess they liked me here, I wasn't such an eyesore.

"Alright," I gave in once again. We shuffled to the back of the bar, and Gib slipped the man a twenty. He stepped aside and let us through.

The hallway was coated in red velvet, with black floors so shiny I could look down and see myself sweat. "We're in room eight," Rick pointed toward the last room, all the way in the back. It had a huge door and was marked, "Sammi Star Gazer".

I rapped at the dark brown mahogany. A Hispanic dancer came around and informed us to just go in, that our girl wasn't ready yet.

I ventured in the room and was shocked to find it was very… plain. Simple black tiles, a few silver poles reached the ceiling and stretched down to the floor, a couple of chairs, and a huge gray box were the only décor of the room. There was another door all the way off to the side, but it didn't have a handle; only a card slot.

"What do you know about the girl?" I asked the others, interested.

"Well, blonde," Rick poked me in the stomach. "You needed a change," he affectionately joked, referring to Carly's dark brunette locks. "Blue eyes, big jugs, tiny waist."

"Alright," I nodded, raising my eyebrow suggestively. "Gimmick?"

"Look at you, with all your knowledge of stripper terminology," Wes slapped my back. "Nerd."

"Awh! No way!" I cheered. No secret there, I was a huge nerd in high school. And to find a stripper with a nerd gimmick, that might be the hottest thing ever. Carly tried her best to be nerdy (not in the bedroom, of course, we had never gotten that far) but it wasn't her. She was preppy and prudish, not nerdy and dirty.

The lights dimmed and a bunch of glow in the dark stars appeared on the ceiling. "Hello boys," a husky voice greeted us. That metal door slid open, and she stepped out.

Breath-taking doesn't even begin to describe the effect she had on me. While the wind was knocked out of me, my eyes were glued to her physique. Her hair was pure honey, with strips of tinsel wrapped around tender tendrils. Blue eyes laced with glitter eyeliner or whatever the hell that make up thing is that makes your eyes look that fantastic greeted me, and a puckered red smile appeared as she saw my eager pupils. "This the-," she was standing before me now, her chest in line with my face. "Groom?" she purred.

I could see her clearly now, except for her face. All the shots and beers were finally getting to me. "Yup," I slurred. The guys chuckled as I flipped them off. A silver body suit was her costume, full of zippers. Low cut at the bust, and at the back, the material ended right below those fresh-apple cheeks. Damn, I wanted those in my hands. My eyes focused a little, and I grinned at her.

She pulled a remote out of her cleavage and started some music. Techno beats filled my ears. "Last night of freedom?" she joked, backing away. My arms reached out to pull her back, but she was out of my grasp.

Something about her voice made something else in my head click. I felt like I had known her my whole life, yet I had just met her. Plus, I didn't think I knew any strippers.

Her stilettos clicked against the tiles as she neared one of the poles. As if a trick of magic, she grabbed the top and twisted herself around, so she held on to the top with her legs and balanced with her hands. "C'mere," she cooed. Intoxicated by her, I bolted up and complied. Her head was parallel to my crotch, and I felt something stir.

"Ready?" she whispered, bobbing her head to the music. I think I gave a slight nod. Like a contortionist, she whipped around, now right side up. "What's your name, baby?"

"Freddie," I replied, staring into her eyes. Those eyes.

She flinched a little, as if my name bothered her. "But you can call me anything you like."

She giggled. "You're funny, Freddie," she bit her lip. Perfect white pearls. A quick jump and she was off the pole, now just standing there. I backed up a bit, as she began swinging around. I couldn't hear the boys cheering; this was my night with Sammi Star Gazer.

Her breasts moved fluidly as she danced around the stick, and hooked on with one leg. Doing sort of a backbend, she gave me a delightful view of the top of her chest. Her head was right between my feet, and she took one delicate, long finger, and traced the inseam of the right pant leg, almost reaching the crotch. Repeating the same with the left, she smirked as she saw another slight movement down below.

Quickly and almost in a flash, she was standing before me again, shaking her ass to the speeded beat. Her long hair was a little disheveled. She placed her hands on my chest and led me to a chair. I was beaming, I couldn't help it.

She began unbuttoning my shirt, and tossed it carelessly to the ground. The image seemed so familiar; I peered at her inquisitively, but shook my head. How could I know her?

She straddled me, and shoved her perfect breasts in my neck, tilting her chin back, still gyrating her pelvis on mine. I sighed contentedly. She flipped her head back up, and our eyes met. She moved her face closer, until it was a centimeter away. I could smell the mint on her breath, as she was panting. I was too.

"Like what I'm doing?" she whispered, not showing any emotion at all. I solemnly nodded.

Jumping up again, leaving me with an even stiffer problem, she turned to the others. I watched her grab each of their ties, one by one, and led them outside. "Alone time," she explained with a twinkle in her eyes. "Y'all get to decide what I will do to your-," she glanced at me, "lucky friend."

I bit my lip. As she closed the door behind her, I attempted to fix my hair as fast as possible. Bed head was sexy right? Well, this was just-felt-up hair, but same thing. I felt a vibration in my pocket and saw a text from Carly. Not bothering to read it, I shut off my phone. This night was reserved just for Sammi and me.

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**A/N: Thanks for the support guys! It means so much to me. I have the next chapter done, and I think I'm going to enjoy working on this very much. I'm planning for it to be a long story, but unfortunately I'm going on hiatus starting Sunday. I'm going on a six-week vacay, but you have my word I'll get you guys up to twenty chapters by then. Yup, that's right. _Twenty_. And that's going to be about half or two thirds of the story, not sure. So reviews are always welcome, as are inboxes. And if you'd like me to beta for you, that's kick-ass too! You guys keep me going. xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own _iCarly_, Dan Schneider does. But he's doing a pretty good job, so it's okay.**

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My nerd-goddess (although it wasn't much of a nerdy gimmick, just a girl who kind of looked like an astronaut or possibly a robot) returned to me, and played a different tune in the room. "Ready to see why they picked me?"

What else could I do? I cleared my throat, and tried to find my voice. "You bet." On cue, she approached me once more.

"Unzip me," she commanded, turning her back to me. Cautiously, I pulled the metal tab from the middle of her back, down a short distance to the top of her ass. I lingered there, tracing the bit of waistband exposed. I slowly peeled her arms out of her sleeves, and rolled the entire piece down her ass until it was just a gray puddle of spandex on the ground. She was wearing gray lingerie, just a simple bra with a g-string. She turned to face me.

I admired her in all her glory. "I'm yours tonight, Freddie," she whispered in that soft voice of hers. She said it with such heart and soul, as if we were truly lovers about to commit ourselves to each other.

I just forgot about Carly. I didn't intend to, but I felt such a strong bond to Sammi. I wasn't going to have sex with her, I swear, but I just wanted to get some answers. I picked her up, bridal style, and headed to that door. She pulled a piece of thin plastic out of her cleavage and stuck it in the slot. I entered the new room, looking around. There was a bed with black linen, a few soft light fixtures, and mirrors all around. Another door was ajar, showing a bathroom.

I gently placed Sammi on the bed and she scooted up to the pillows. I sat down in front of her, pulling off my shoes. Unfortunately, my phone buzzed again. "Dammit, I thought I turned this shit off," I grumbled, pulling it out of my pocket.

I was pretty shocked when I saw a picture of Carly being groped by a tan guy in cufflinks and a bow tie from my cousin Amanda. Caption? "Letting loose at the bachey party!" Must have been a group message and that stupid bitch forgot to uncheck my number.

Sammi saw. "Is that her?" her voice quivered at the last word. I nodded. "She's beautiful. Even like that," she joked.

"Thanks," I heartlessly answered, feeling all kinds of betrayal. Sure, it wasn't technically against the rules, but I just didn't see Carly exhibiting that kind of behavior. "But I think we can make a better picture."

Her eyes lit up as she pulled me by the neckline of my shirt. Our noses met, and before I knew it, we were kissing passionately. After a few seconds, our tongues collided. It's like I knew this mouth, like I had been there before. She twisted her lips around mine as her tongue graced the roof of my mouth. I pulled back in awe, recognizing that signature move. I clumsily retreated, gasping and shaking.

"Sam?" I asked, taking on a concerned expression. Her mouth was open slightly, in a cute little "o" shape. A tear slipped out and dripped on her cheek. She caught it with her tongue, and looked at her feet.

"Yes," she barely spoke the word. "You found me. I'm _not_ dead, I'm a stripper."

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**A/N: A lot of things will be explained in later chapters. Some will, some won't. I'm jamming these puppies out as fast as I can, I want my readers to be happy! So tell your friends! Your enemies! Anyone with a computer! Your reviews make me smile, and apparently I have a pretty smile. If I have a pretty smile, I might get a boyfriend. If I get a boyfriend, I'll write more because I'm happy. Write a review, make me smile, get me a boyfriend, make me happy, I'll write more. It's a cycle where only you win ;3 xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own three pairs of jeggings from American Eagle but I don't own own _iCarly_.**

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"W-what happened to you?" I stupidly asked with a look of bewilderment on my face. She kept staring at the duvet, and suddenly became very entertained by a loose thread.

"Whatever do you mean,Fredward?" she muttered, tugging at the fabric until it came off. Her breathing became heavy as her chest moved up and down.

"Wait, you knew it was me the whole time?"

"Of course I did," she rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'd forget your face. And believe me, I've tried."

"Sam," I reached out to touch her cheek. She pulled away, giving me fiery eyes. I backed off, putting up my hands so she could see them. Settling back down, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Look, your guys paid big money for me. I'm assuming you either want to talk or play, and if we're going to talk, at least let me put on a robe. But if we're going to play," she looked up at me and smirked, "like old times, let me do my job."

I was utterly disgusted, but tried my best not to show it. "Oh Sam," I said gently, "I don't want to "play"," I put air-quotes around the last part. "But I'd like to talk, if that's okay with you." She had obviously been through some tough times if she was a stripper, for god's sake. It's not something you decide to do for the rest of your life after waking up one morning.

She hopped off the bed and strolled into the bathroom, ass and breasts jiggling. I missed the way her hips swayed as she walked, and how her hair bounced when she ran. It was all coming back to me. High school memories I had long forgotten were rushing back. It had been quite a while, I was almost thirty now.

She returned, concealed in a purple silk robe and her hair was up. Even trying to look as casual as possible, she still had the sex appeal of a cat in heat. "You know, it's nice to be able to talk with someone about this. Someone I trust...," she glanced at me with tears in her blue eyes. "Trusted."

"You can still trust me," I informed her, meaning every word. "You were one of my best friends before my girlfriend, and then you just… you just left."

"I know. I know," she sighed, tucking a loose lock behind her ear. "And I regret it. Who knows, it may be me texting you to go all out with a hoe, and not her," she chuckled, but spit out the last word.

I shook away the uncomfortable thought. "Sam, you're not a hoe. Tasha is a hoe," I reminded her of the girl who broke Gibby's heart years ago.

She laughed. I missed her laugh. "Okay, well, uh, where do you want to start? Because the only other person who knows everything is Kandi. Well, almost everything. She's another girl who works here. I think you had a nice time up in her bellybutton earlier," she gave a mischievous wink. All the blood rushed to my cheeks as I sputtered out random syllables, but she shushed me. "Just ask. I'll answer."

"Where did you go?"

She turned away from me and arranged some pillows around. "I went with my john," she casually informed me.

That sounded familiar, the terminology. I had remembered reading an article about "johns." Who were they? I peered at her inquisitively, until I remembered.

"Oh my god, Sam!" I screamed.

"Shh!" She scolded. "Yeah, okay? I went with a pimp. Now before you judge, you have to hear my side of the story. Because I sure as hell don't need that kind of shit from you," she bitterly hissed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just… shocked. Does that even begin to describe my feelings on the situation? Sam was always the tough girl, the tomboy. Yeah, she was sexy and fun-loving, but how could she sell herself like that?

"My mom was dating this guy," she began, and I could feel a flood coming on, and I prepared to listen. "He was actually really nice. Cool, and rich. Said he was a doctor. Paid for food for us. Bought me a TV in my room, and a new PearPod. Took me shopping. Let me call him by his name."

She faced me now. "And then my mom dumped him. Said he was too clingy. Too much like a father to me, spent too much time with me. Didn't give her enough attention. Broke my fucking heart."

She balled up her hand into a fist and slammed in on her knee. She winced at the pain, and did it again. Something inside my chest was melting. I felt so badly for this poor girl- well, she was definitely a woman now. No doubt about that.

She saw my look of comfort and snorted. "I don't want your pity, Benson. You were just watching me shake my ass around a fucking pole, I don't need you to feel bad for me." I blushed once more and felt hot, and disgusting. She was right.

"Okay, so where was I? Oh. Right. He left. But we still texted every day. Emailed, even. I'd visit him in his apartment. Nothing weird like that went on, it was really like he was my father. This was around junior year," she whispered. Suddenly everything clicked. That's why Sam had seemed happier. She was actually studying and paying attention in school. She didn't commit any (serious) crimes. And she had kissed me. We had begun dating that April.

"When we started dating?" I asked. She nodded. "Go on," I told her, as if she needed encouragement from me.

"Okay. Well, I told him about you. And he was angry. Like, jealous. It was some weird shit. He didn't want me to see you. I told him I couldn't do that, I," she blushed. I don't think I've ever seen her blush. "I told him I loved you."

"I loved you too," I murmured before realizing what I had said. I don't think she heard me, because Sam just continued.

"But he stopped taking my calls. He stopped texting me. I missed him, Freddie. I missed my dad. So I told him I broke up with you. I wouldn't want to go against my father's wishes. I thought that would make him happy."

"It made him angrier. As if it wasn't enough."

"Sam," I placed my hand gingerly on hers. I knew where this was going. I swallowed the lump of anticipation in my throat. A bead of sweat dripped down my neck.

She didn't take her hand away. "He told me that if I loved him, I'd do something for him. He wanted me," she took a deep breath. "To take pictures of myself in my underwear, and send them to some of his friends. I said no, of course. And I left."

"He didn't try and contact me anymore," Sam muttered. "If I didn't comply, I wasn't worth it. Do you remember Bud Andrews' party?"

"Course," my face fell. "That's the last time we saw you, and the only time we got to second base," I smirked.

"You'd remember that part," she punched my shoulder, but still smiled. "So anyway, you had to leave early."

"My mom came home early from Fresno. I had to pick her up at the airport."

"Right. I was lonely. I got drunk. I knew I shouldn't take a cab or something. I could have been kidnapped. So I called him."

"He came to get me, but he didn't take me home. He took me to his apartment. I didn't resist. I let him undress me and take the pictures. I wasn't in my right mind, Freddie."

I tightened my grip on her fingers. "I know."

"No, you don't know," Sam snapped, "No one knows how I had to beg for the photos back. No one knows how he slipped something in my drink later and brought a friend over. No one knows how I was raped."

She stood up and entered the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her, I could hear her sobbing. Sam didn't cry. Sam Puckett couldn't cry.

Tears slipped down my cheeks and onto the sheets. We sat in separate rooms for the longest time, as I took short, bated breaths, and as she wailed behind that closed door.

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**A/N: What did you guys think? Reviews are loved. Oh, and to who asked where I got my poster- I just printed out a couple of yummy pics of him and decorated my room with them. I have a wall dedicated to sexy celebrities- David Schwimmer makes a couple appearances 3 xo neon-greenshoelaces**

**PS: I have five chapters done as of right now, I'll be updating as soon as possible! Going to get to twenty by Sunday, my last day for six weeks! You guys rock, keep me going!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Still don't own iCarly. Still working on it.**

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Maybe half an hour later she returned, wearing a sweater and sweat pants. "No use wearing that little robe. No one's having sex tonight," she said sarcastically.

"When did you become my wife?" I retorted. She grinned and sat down. Then her face fell.

"So I was raped. Yeah. I tried to forget. But I craved the attention from him. So I stayed with him. And by him, I mean…I can't say his name. But my father. Can I call him John?" I nodded. "Okay."

"I just stopped showing up to school. Day after day he would bring in different men to sleep with me. Some would just touch me. Sometimes I would touch them. In exchange for this, John took me shopping. He got me whatever I wanted. I didn't even ask to leave, I had just given up. So what if I had to compromise myself? I wasn't worth shit. I'm not worth shit now."

I took her face in my hands. "I don't ever want to hear you say that again. You are beautiful and smart and funny, and you can beat up anyone with a sock full of butter. And you are worth all the shit in the world, and I wish that didn't come out that shitty, and I wish I would stop making the shittiest puns. Okay, I'm going to shut up now," I was nervous.

She turned away from me but a tiny smile danced at her lips. "So one day, he had a heart attack. Just dropped dead in the apartment. I packed up my things and hit the streets. I was living in a box for a week- I was around eighteen. Yeah, I had been there for two years."

I looked at her. Two years of that pain. Two years of being a prostitute.

"I wanted to call you. Or Carly. Or Spencer. Or someone. But I didn't have change for a call."

"Oh Sam, I wish I had known," I mumbled, stroking her cheek. "I wish I could have found you out there and picked you up and took you home."

"I didn't have a home to go to. But that's sweet," she bit her lip. "So then Carlos came up to me. Told me I was real pretty. Took me out to dinner. I ate a whole surf-and-turf meal. Plus a salad, and a dessert. I was fucking hungry!" I chuckled. "He told me I was sexy as hell, and would give me a job. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I said yes."

"Here?" I asked, and it all clicked into place. She nodded. I stood up and left the room, leaving her dumbfounded. I picked up my shirt and walked back to her. I took her hand. "Come on," I pulled her.

"Where are we going?" she asked, confused.

I grinned at her. "You're leaving. You're going to stay with me for a while."

She stopped in her tracks. "No."

"No?" I questioned.

"No. I have a life, here, Freddie. I have a job."  
"Sam, this isn't a job. This is getting naked for strangers. You're better than that. I can take care of you for as long as you need me. I want to."

"But what about Carly?" she whimpered.

"We don't live together. And I'm sure she'll be thrilled to know you're still alive."

"Yeah, what up with that?"

"Well," I sighed, slumping into the chair where I received that amazing lap dance. "Your mom never bothered to file a missing person's report. We couldn't do it, we weren't family. I tried tracking you, but your phone came up in the middle of the ocean."

"He threw it in there and bought me a new one."

"Yeah. I mean, I knew you were alive. I always did. But everyone else kind of backed off."

"Even Carly?"

"She was in pain. And I had to comfort her…"

"So she was your rebound."

"It wasn't like that," I sighed. "We didn't get together until three years ago. In fact, we hadn't talked for a long time. She came in to do a report about the new PearPhones, and I was the main developer at the time. I work in software now. She's an anchorwoman. We had dinner and decided to give it a try. We fell in love," I told her.

"Well, I'm happy for you," she grinned. Her eyes still seemed sad.

"Let's go."

"Okay."

"Really?" I was shocked. I was sure she would put up a fight.

"But you're taking me out to dinner," she squeezed my arm.

"Of course," I agreed. I sent a quick text to Gibby and the guys that I was going home- Sammi puked and I was helping her home. They were going to party. I had sobered up, I felt fine. We hopped in my car and drove off into the Seattle night. I knew just where to go.

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**A/N: Reviews make dolphins sing and make me write faster! xo neon-greenshoelaces**

**Love you guys so much!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, but I do have a very small purse that I still use to this day from Limited Too.**

"This ham is amazing," Sam gushed, shoveling the pork into her mouth. I laughed and sipped my diet soda. "I can't believe this place is still here!"

"How could it not be?" I asked. "It's your favorite. Your picture was on the wall for months when you were still here."

I had taken Sam to Genie's Diner, her favorite spot in Seattle. This was where I took her on our first date. I remember it like it was yesterday.

_"Today is the day, Gib," I smirked and buttoned up my shirt._

_ "I'm so happy you finally grew a pair and asked her out," he slapped me on the back and dropped down on my bed. "No, no, you douche, the purple tie."_

_ "Purple?" I asked. "That's not my color…"  
"It goes with her eyes. Tell her that. It seems like you know what color her eyes are."_

_ "They're blue. Like the clearest drop of water in the ocean, or like acid wash jeans."_

_ "Gay!" he sneered, laughing. "No, that's just a joke," Gib straightened up. "I'm not homophobic."_

_ I cracked up. "I know, bro. Now, listen, go text Carly. Make sure she's getting Sam ready."_

_ "Done, and done. Apparently Sam looks 'fuckable."_

_ I turned, intrigued. "Carly said fuckable?"_

_ "I know, right? Hot!"_

_ As if on cue, my doorbell rang. "That's not Sam, it's Carly."_

_ "How do you know?" he questioned._

_ "Simple," I shrugged, walking through the apartment. "Sam always barges in."_

_ "True," he chuckled. And it was Carly._

_ "Go get her! She's about to break down and change, I made her get all dressed up! Don't make her change into jeans and a tee-shirt, aren't you going somewhere nice?" Carly was rattling away about Sam this, and Sam that._

_ "Sam looks stunning no matter what, Carly. And leave something to the imagination, jeez."_

_ Carly and Gibby gave each other a look, and my face reddened. "Well, I'm going to go," I spluttered. "Watch whatever you want, eat whatever you want, chill out. Make out for all I care," I turned and left the apartment._

_ I knocked on Carly's door, patiently awaiting my princess. "Sam?" I called. Normally I'd just walk in, but I wanted a little formality._

_ She emerged from the studio, and literally took my breath away. Everything behind her lit up, as my eyes danced upon her. Her hair was still curly, but had waves that were as voluminous as ever. Her eyes were sparkling, and her face was still natural, but just a touch of make-up. But her curves! Oh, I knew Sam was definitely more developed than she had been, but damn! She was wearing a form-fitting black dress that had short sleeves, a scoop neck, and landed just below her ass. And to top it all off? Teal converse. Oh, Sam._

_ She must have noticed I was staring, because she uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "What?"_

_ "You look amazing," I honestly informed her, giving her my arm. She gladly hooked hers through mine and we went out into the hallway._

_ "Thanks," she bit her lip. Man, I wish I could bite that lip. "You don't look so bad yourself."_

_ I grinned as I led her into the elevator. Moments later, we were in the lobby. "Bye Lewbert," I called._

_ "BLARGH!" he replied, flailing. "Wait!"_

_ "Yes?" I turned to look at him. God, I wish I hadn't. The wart had only gotten bigger, and it seemed as though it was multiplying. A smaller version was growing right above it._

_ "You two going on a… date?" he glared at us and pointed his stubby, nasty finger accusingly._

_ Sam stepped up. "You got a problem with it, Lewb?"  
"No!" he gave a cheesy, yellow smile. "It's freakin' adorable!"_

_ She scoffed and continued walking, but I could see the corners of her lips turning upward. "So where are you taking me?"_

_ "You'll see," I helped her into the passenger's seat of my car._

_ "Okay, but you better take me somewhere nice, Benson," she demanded._

_ "You're going to have an amazing night, Sam," I informed her. "Get ready."_

_ "Feisty. I like it," she giggled._

* * *

"What are you thinking about?" she asked me, taking me out of my reverie.

"Our first date, actually," I shyly confessed.

"Yeah, well, that was almost thirteen years ago," she dismissed it. I was taken aback, apparently she was not going to go down that road.

"So we'll go back to my place, and you can crash, okay?"

"Sure," she absentmindedly replied, chewing away. Sam was still Sam. Looked like a lady, fought like a boxer, ate like a tiger, and kissed like a pro.

"Do you have things?"

"No," she set her fork down. "Everything I own is stripper stuff. I stayed in the club."

"You can surely borrow from Carly," I immediately regretted what I had said after that.

"I'm not ready to see her again."

"That's fine. Take your time."

"What if I don't want to?"

"You don't have to."

"Won't that be lying to her? Your ex-girlfriend staying your apartment, and she won't know…seems a bit suspicious…"

"Look. I have a life outside of Carly. She doesn't need to know, and nor will she mind if she does find out. You two were best friends."  
"I can't imagine why, she was always a priss," she sarcastically exclaimed.

"Hey," I slammed my palm down on the table. The silverware clanged against each other, and the ice cubes in my glass shook. "Don't talk about my fiancé like that."

"Fine," she stood up and grabbed her purse. "Then I'll go. I don't need someone to yell at me and put me down; I get enough of that at the club."

"Sam!" I shot up out of the booth, but left some bills on the table. I chased her to the parking lot.

"What?" she shrieked. "What do you want from me, Freddie? Do you expect me to let you take me in? Are you going to nurture me? Clean me up? Get me a respectable job? Let me fall in love with you again? Because I can't do that. I can't put myself through that again. I can't," she squeaked out the last part.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to me. "There is no way in hell I am losing you again, Puckett," I growled.

And here's where it got cliché. Time slowed down, just like it does in the movies. I was a head taller than her now, and her body was pressed up against mine. I looked down at her, and saw those crystal eyes. Vulnerable. Scared. She glanced up at me, and got on tip-toes, and before I knew it, our noses were touching. "Oh, Freddie," she sighed.

"I missed you," I replied, lightly touching my lips against hers.

We kept it up for a few more seconds, until it became passionate. Full of tongue flicking and lip biting, with Sam's signature move. I released my grip around her wrist and she flung her arms around my neck, as I lifted her up. Her legs were wrapped around my waist as I sat her down on the hood of my car.

We separated and I saw her blush once more. "Wow," she muttered.

"Did you feel those sparks?" I spluttered, a huge, dopey grin on my face.

"You bet your sweet ass I did, Benson," she suggestively raised her eyebrows.

I threw my head back and laughed. "I missed this," and I leaned in to kiss her once more.

She turned her head. "We can't," she whispered, as my lips met her cheek.

"Mmph?"

"Carly?"  
"Oh, shit!" I had finally decided to remember her. Scumbag brain.

"Yeah," Sam looked uncomfortable, and bit her nail.

"Fuck her," I said, and kissed her once more.

"Please don't," she squeaked, but gave in.

We kissed a little more, but then went back into the car. We drove silently, until we reached my place.

She looked at the building, and nodded. Turning to me, she laughed. "What, do you have the penthouse?"

"Uh, maybe," I awkwardly laughed.

Her mouth dropped. "Seriously? How much money do you make?"  
"Sam! That's none of your business!"

She held up her hands and rolled her eyes. "Alright Benson. I'm tired, you want to go?"  
I led her into the building through the back entrance. "Afraid your friends will think you've been renting a prostitute?"  
"Of course not!" I gasped, appalled at the thought. "The front entrance is closed, it's almost three in the morning."

"Damn! Normally I'd be finishing up the second round of losers."

"Sam, that's your old life. You don't have to do that anymore."  
"Freddie, it's going to take some time. And if I'm staying with you, which I intend to do for as short as possible, I'm earning my keep. I'll pay for everything I need and rent. Strippers do make a lot of money, you know. Lots of losers out there who want some of Momma."

I smirked. "Like me," I tweaked her nose and kissed her forehead.

"Jeez, it's only been thirteen years. Hands off."

We took the elevator up and arrived at my front door. Unlocking it, I announced, "Welcome to Casa del Fredo!"

"Holy shit!" she yelled, running inside. She took in the spacious living room, kitchen with the island, and the balcony.

"Good?"

"Fantastic," she murmured, hugging me. "I can't thank you enough for this."

"Don't. You'd do the same for me."  
"If you were a stripper I'd laugh."

"Not after paying for a back room with me," I teased. She smacked my ass.

The phone rang. "Who the hell is that?" I wondered aloud. "Benson."

Sam laughed.

"Hey F-Freddie!" Carly's drunken voice rung out. "Guess what?"

"Carly?"

"Trent the stripper grabbed my boob!" she cackled.

"Where are you? I'll come get you."

"No, I want him to grab my other boob first," she slurred. I stamped my foot.

"You drunken bitch," I stated, and slammed the phone. I walked over to Sam and looked at her. "We're done."

"What happened?" she innocently asked.

"Bitch went and fucked the club."

"Oh god," she broke out into hysterics. "Please don't ever say that again, oh gosh," she wiped a tear away. I couldn't help but join her.

"Come on, you must be exhausted."

"Can I shower though? I'm still covered in middle aged single men sweat and glitter."

"That's what that smell is," I marveled.

"I should bottle it," she cracked, giving me that cute grin.

"Third door on the right, towels are in there."

As she walked, I sat down at the bar.

Sam Puckett was back. And she was going to be mine again.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter literally took me twenty minutes to write, I just breezed through it! This story is so fun, I love where it's going! But don't get too comfortable- Creddie may not be vanquished quite yet. I know, I know. Reviews make me happy, and my insomnia isn't going away anytime soon, so I'll be writing as much as possible. Leave me your ideas in the comments, I'd love to incorporate your thoughts. Here's one- how should I introduce Sam back into the general public? xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, but I do happen to have many pairs of colorful flannel pants.**

* * *

I woke up next morning with a blonde-headed demon in my arms. Something was pounding- maybe it was my head, or maybe it was the door. I rolled out of bed and shuffled to the den, scratching my back with my pajama pants swung low on my hips.

"Who's there?" I yelled, stifling a yawn.

"Freddie?" Carly's delicate voice called. I opened the door. And there she was.

Pristine as could be, she was standing in my doorway as if she was returning from church, in a white dress with orange flowers, tangerine cardigan, and mandarin shoes to match. I remembered buying those for her, as she tried to explain the difference in color to me. Carly had stayed petite, with a slim body and short stature. She wasn't as curvy as Sam, but still…cute. Beautiful, even. I guess I couldn't see her the same way after last night. "What do you want?" I groaned, not pleased to see her.

"I wanted to see you," she took a step forward and grabbed my hands. I retreated, and she made a face. "What?"

"Don't you remember last night?" I sneered.

"To be honest," she looked at the floor, "I don't remember anything."

"Really? You don't remember this?" I took my phone off the counter and showed her the incriminating photo.

She gaped at it with wide eyes. "Oh my goodness, Freddie, I don't remember that at all!"

"Save it. We're done," I spat.

"W-what?"

"You heard me."  
"No, no, no, baby, please," she placed her hands on her head in exasperation. "I am so sorry for what I did, but I was just a little tipsy! It means nothing!"

"You were full-on drunk, Carly."

"I don't even remember his name!" she cried, trying to make it better.

"Trent," I reminded her sarcastically. "Trent the stripper."

"Wait, how would you know?"

"You called me last night."

"What did I say?" she fearfully asked.

"I can't remember clearly, but it was something along the lines of 'don't come get me, I want him to feel my other boob'," I led her to the hallway once more.

"Freddie, sweetheart, it was just a party. You know you're my one, true love. My heart's desire, my soul mate," she soothed me.

"Maybe I did overreact," I admitted, touching her cheek.

"I'm sorry, honey. You know how much I care about you. And I want to be with you."

"I want to be with you, too."

"I want to be yours in every single way," she whispered before kissing me softly.

"You already are," I smiled at her. Her big brown eyes were bright once more.

"I have to get down to the studio. See you tonight?"

"I have to work late, I'm sorry, Carls."

"It's okay," she pouted. I kissed her lips once more. "Bye," she giggled.

I shut the door behind her, and leaned against it. Closing my eyes, I groaned.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked, walking out of my room.

I walked over to her and kissed her so forcefully, that I knocked her off her feet. How could I not? She was wearing an old tee-shirt of mine. That's it.

"Woah, what was that for?" she asked with a look of amusement on her face.

"You just look so damn sexy," I complimented her, guiding her to the kitchen. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Hmm, how about eggs and bacon?"

"Coming right up!" I began fishing the ingredients out of the fridge.

"Let me do it," she stopped me. "Go get ready for work."

"You sure? I don't mind," I was shocked. I wasn't used to Sam being so helpful and considerate.

"Yeah, it's the least I can do. Besides, I'm pretty handy in the kitchen. I'm pretty handy everywhere," she joked, winking.

"I know," I agreed, smirking. She swatted my rear and pushed me into the bathroom.

"Go get ready for work!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going!" I laughed, stepping into the tiled room.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and a wave of panic came over me.

I had become everything I wasn't; a womanizer and a liar. I was cheating on my fiancée.

But what's worse? The fact that I had already done it, or that I have no intention of stopping?

* * *

**A/N: Your reviews make me so happy- I check them constantly! This is the first story I feel like I may actually finish and be happy with it. Leave me your comments, I take them into consideration. Love y'all! xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: ****I own... twenty bottles of nail polish, but not iCarly.**

* * *

After showering and dressing in a new suit I came out to find Sam dancing up a storm in the kitchen. She was shaking and moving to the beat of my PearPod, the long tee shirt exposing a bit of ass cheek with every gyration of her hips, and I couldn't help but grin. I looked over to the counter and saw two hearty helpings of eggs, toast, and bacon, all shaped in a smile. "Wow," I commented as she turned around.

"Oh, hey," she handed me a plate. "Eat up."

"Thanks," I marveled at her work. "I didn't know you could cook."  
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Benson. I've changed."

"I'd love to find out all of those changes," I said between mouthfuls. "Christ, Sam, this is phenomenal."

"Thanks, Freddie. What do you want to know?"  
"Well… anything you want to say, I guess."  
"I can speak fluent French," she smirked.

"Swearing isn't French," I reminded her, giving her a sly smile.

"I also speak sarcasm," she playfully punched my arm.

"Really?" I feigned shock, pressing my palm to my cheek and forming an "o" with my mouth. "I know that all too well."  
"Yeah well…," she mumbled through a spoonful of eggs.

"Listen, I want to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Have you thought about getting another job?"

"Of course. I was planning on looking online later."  
"Well, don't."

"Why not?" she asked, a bit surprised.

"Because I want you to work for me," I grinned at her sheepishly.

"Freddie, I know nothing about software or technology. I've been hidden away as a stripper/prostitute for the past thirteen years, I don't fucking know squat about what's in."

"Yeah, we also have to discuss that," I said uncomfortably, "but I want to hire you as an assistant. You know, get me coffee. Arrange my meetings. Pick up my dry-cleaning. Take my calls. That sort of thing."

"Oh!" Sam replied, excitedly. "I guess I could do that. You sure it wouldn't be weird?"  
"Not at all. You have a job, and I get to spend more time with you."

"That sounds pretty sweet. And I get to wear clothes?" Sam put on that little act.

"That would be appropriate!" I cheered right back and gave her hand a squeeze.

"But uh, I don't have anything to wear to an office," Sam admitted. "I have a lot of underwear and spandex… and I mean, a lot of men-in-suits would like that, but I'd prefer to keep my clothes on."

"I know, I thought about that," I began. Sam smirked. "I mean, about you not having work clothes, Sam," I explained. "I'd like to take you shopping."  
"Freddie, you don't have to do that."

"I want to. I cancelled all my morning meetings and I arranged for a personal shopper to meet us at the department store. She'll help you out and I'll just sign my name at the register."

I felt pretty pleased with myself. I wanted to do something nice for Sam. Such a lovely woman deserved to be pampered and treated like a queen after years and years of the opposite. I wished for Sam to smile again, to regain that tough, outer shell. She was too sweet and vulnerable now. I hate to say it, but I missed the tom-boyishness.

"No."

"Sam," I sighed. "Don't do this."

"I can't accept that, Benson. I have morals."

"What about if I give the clothes to you as a loan?"  
She pondered this. "So I would pay you back, right?"  
"I'd take it out of your paycheck. Along with your other expenses."

"And I'll only work for you until I can get enough money to live on my own, right?"  
"If that's what you'd like."

"Okay, I'll do it."  
"Great. Now go shower, I just need to make a couple of calls."

"Thanks, Freddie. I really appreciate all of this," she leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

"You can prove it to me later," I whispered in her ear. She winked and those hips of hers swayed out of the kitchen and down the hall.

I sunk back into the chair, feeling a new sense of pride. I was helping Sam get her life on track. It was wonderful.

* * *

**A/N: I can't thank you enough for all your support. Writing is something I've fallen out of but regained again, and you all have helped me on the right track. This story is like my child, and I love watching it grow. It takes a community to raise a kid, and you all are molding it into an upstanding fic. Haha, sorry I'm rambling, it's 3 AM where I am. I love you all, keep reviewing and subscribing- I showed my mom the subscription emails and she said she was proud haha :) thanks my loverlies xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own a pillow pet named Hermione, but I don't own iCarly.**

* * *

Sam stepped out of the dressing room with a pleased look. I couldn't blame her, she looked radiant. Eda, my personal shopper, was excited to work with Sam. She just stepped into anything that was thrown at her, and looked smashing in every piece.

This ensemble was appropriate for the office; a plain black pencil skirt and green button up blouse. I stood up to get a better look, and smiled at her. Buttoning up the top button, I told her she missed one.

"No, I didn't. I'm not all about the mystery," she smirked, undoing it again.

"I can't wait to have you around the office."  
"I can't wait to work! I can just see it now, 'Hello, you've reached the nub, please hold. Hello, this is Samantha calling for Mr. Benson, how may I direct your shit?"

"Oh dear lord," I cried, breaking out into a soft chuckle. "You're a funny one, Puckett."

"I'm not laughing, Benson," she retorted, flaring her eyes. A wide grin that escaped from her lips and stretched to her eyes told me otherwise.

"Sam, do you need anything else?" Eda asked politely. She looked pretty fashionable herself, dressed in a black dress shirt with cap sleeves and white tailored slacks. Pointed-toe shoes added some formality that was toned down with an aqua blue bracelet.

I remember when I first met Eda. I had sauntered in to this lavish department store, looking for a couple of suits to wear to work. I had just landed the promotion of my dreams- senior developer. I had my own office and receptionists, so I needed to look the part. I requested some assistance, what the hell did I know about clothes? Eda found me and took me on the best spree of my life. I had ended up with nine suits that fit perfectly, and even some great casual wear for the weekends and days off. Plus, she helped me get some major brownie points with Carly from a necklace with a single diamond pendant. Overtime she and I had become close friends, I had even given her the newest PearPhone for this past Christmas. She and Carly had also shared something special- they both loved CuttleFish. They frequently brunched together, and I was glad Carly had some good girl-bonding time.

"Nah, I should be good."

"You sure? You have enough stuff for casual wear, or formal wear?"

"You've been very helpful, Eda, I appreciate it. I have enough jeans and button downs to last a lifetime, and enough pencil skirts to wear a different one for every day of the month. I'll be set," she gave Eda a quick hug and whispered something else.

Eda laughed and nodded, and took out her phone. I assumed they were swapping numbers.

I made Sam wait in the café as I paid; it was none of her concern. After paying a very small fortune for all of the merchandise, I met her at a round table by the window.

"Thanks again," she hugged me close, wrapping her arms around my waist. I playfully squeezed her ass.

"Anytime," I was so happy to help her out. As we embraced, I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

"Oh shit," I murmured, immediately backing away. "Carly."

And there my fiancée was, strolling out of a store with her assistant, Todd. I liked Todd and so did Carly. They hung out all the time, but Carly assured me he was gay.

"Wait, didn't you break up last night?"

"No, we got back together this morning," I confessed sheepishly. Well, there goes that masquerade.

"So… you're an engaged man," she said slowly, things clicking into place. "Oh my god, Freddie, we can't do this anymore!"

"I know," I stated. Then a bit more softly, "I know."

Sam grabbed her purse and walked in that general direction. My heart skipped a beat as the two girls grew closer and closer to each other. Just when they were about a foot away, Sam took a hard left and knocked into the pair.

"Sweet Jesus," I muttered, falling into the chair.

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

**A/N: Ohmygosh, 28 reviews? Thank you so much! It means the world to me knowing that there are real people out there who like my writing! Eek! So how do you think it's going? Surprised that Sam stuck to her morals instead of her desires? It'll work out, don't worry ladies and gents. So remember, I'm getting you up to twenty in two days. I have the next five planned out already, so I have fourteen done, and six to go. Reviews and subscriptions make me write faster, so go go go! Thanks again, and I really do love y'all. xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely no sleep, and I don't own iCarly either.**

* * *

"Excuse you!" Todd's voice rang out through the east wing of the mall. Carly was soothing him and straightening his tie. She then looked down to see a huge latte splotch on her dress.

She reared her head around and spat, "Um, hello?"

"Hello," Sam winked at Carly, and stood still for a second.

You were able to see Carly's eyes bug out, her jaw drop, and her arms flail up to grab Sam. "Sam? Is that you?"

"Uh, lady, do I know you?"

Embarrassed, Carly stepped back. "I apologize, miss, it's just that you look so much like a childhood friend…"

"I'm kidding! Yes, Carly, it's me!" She hugged my fiancée tightly.

"Oh my gosh! We thought you were dead! What happened? How are you? You look…" Carly took in the ratty old sweater and jeans, "So fit!" she gave a toothy grin.

"Thanks, you look great too!" Sam grabbed Carly's hands and looked down, ignoring the other questions. "And what's this? Carly Shay, is that a wedding ring?"

I couldn't stand it anymore. The lying, the fakeness… It was tearing me apart. I walked down the corridor, hoping one of them would spot me.

"Engagement, actually. I'm getting married in eight months," she gushed.

"And who's the lucky fella?"

"Freddie!" Carly shrieked, catching my eye.

I shakily trotted over, smiling. "Hey Carly!"

"You will never believe who I ran into!" she squealed with wide eyes.

"Sam?" I over-exaggerated my surprise. "Why, I can't believe it!"

"I know," she screeched.

"We should have lunch!" Sam proposed, with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Well, I'm free now!" Carly turned to Todd. "Tell them to cover for me back at the studio. I'll take a night shift."

"Right away, Miss Shay," Todd nodded and gave Sam a final sneer before leaving. He didn't even say good-bye to me. Hm.

"I'm free too, how about we go eat at Lorenzo's?" I asked, fearing the awkwardness that was to come.

"Sounds great, but only one condition," Sam stated, her face blank.

"Shoot," Carly was grinning from ear to ear, happily reunited with her best friend from high school.

"My treat," she laughed, walking toward the exit. We all chuckled, as the girls began to argue who would pay.

"No, let Freddie pick up the tab," Carly urged.

Thanks.

We had been seated at the best table available, as per request of one Samantha Puckett. "How'd you get the great table?" Carly marveled.

"I uh, know the owner pretty well," Sam mumbled, eyes fixated on her plate. I coughed.

There was an awkward silence as we sipped our waters and mindlessly tapped at our phones, until Carly broke. "I can't take it anymore! Sam, just tell us what happened!"

"Carly," I hissed, furious with her inconsiderate outburst.

"What?" she glared at me. "I'm sure you're just as curious as I am."

"Yes, but my curiosity can be tamed."

"Guys, it's cool."

I flashed an alarming look toward the blonde. She gave me a look that screamed, "I know what I'm doing, Benson, cool it."

"I got a scholarship to Melanie's boarding school," she explained, nonchalantly. "I thought it'd be too hard to say good-bye, so I didn't."

"So no phone calls? No emails? No facebook updates?" Carly interrogated, clearly not appeased by that answer. Her brow furrowed to a concerned look, but it was doubtful that she could see behind Sam's charade. I love Carly, but she just tended to see things through rose-colored glasses as opposed to how harsh they really were. A squirrel with rabies was just a baby chipmunk brushing its teeth. A wilted flower was just a tired tulip. There was no cold truth with this girl; it's toned down or it's not real.

"Couldn't. Needed to study so I could stay in school."

"I see," I jumped in. "Well, you're back now. What are you doing in town?" I had boarded the lie-train and there was no turning back now.

"I decided to come back to my hometown and settle here. I was in college, but never did anything with my degree," she lied through her teeth. I was surprised at how easily it came to her. I wonder if she had lied to me about anything.

"What were you doing for the past… gosh, you left when we were seventeen and we're twenty seven now… ten years?" Carly was never satisfied until she heard the whole story.

"I was living with my boyfriend. He took care of me for a while, pretty rich guy. Thought I'd take it easy for a while."

"Oh, I'd love to meet him," I smirked, knowing the truth.

"He's dead," she deadpanned, enjoying the shocked look on Carly's face. I couldn't help but give her a sly smile as well. That was one lie taken care of.

"I'm so sorry!" the brunette gasped, fighting back the urge to spurt tears. So dramatic, yet still kind of cute how compassionate she was.

"Don't be. I fell out of love with him years ago," she looked my way as she said this. "I thought he was the one I was waiting my whole life for, but he was just a meaningless detour. I wasn't the only woman in his life, anyway, and I couldn't compete with her. She was so beautiful, so perfect for him. I couldn't stand in the way of true love. Apparently, he couldn't stand anymore either because one day as we were talking in the kitchen, he just fell over from a heart attack," she fabricated, and snapped her fingers. "Just like that, Rupert was dead."

"Rupert?" I sniggered.

"Rupert Vanderbilt, III," she snapped, biting her lip.

"My apologies."

"Don't worry about it," she smiled once more. "So, Carly, you never told me who the lucky guy is!"  
"Uh, actually…" Carly looked down at her plate and then over to me. She grabbed my hand, as Sam's eyes widened. "I'm marrying Freddie."

"No kidding? Congrats!"

"You're not mad?"

"Mad?" Sam flipped her golden locks behind her shoulder. "Why would I be mad?"

"Well, you two did date…"

"It's in the past, kiddo. I'm happy for you," she gave a convincingly good smile.

Carly had that look on her face, the one she gets when she's thinking hard. It almost never ends well.

"Sam, how long will you be in town?"

I didn't like where this was going.

"I'm planning on staying. Why, want to get rid of me already?"

"No, of course not!" Carly looked hurt, but her expression softened. "I was actually wondering if you'd like to be my maid of honor."

This cannot be happening.

"Oh, how…sweet," Sam tried to find the right words. Decline, decline, decline, I willed her with my mind. Please, please, don't.

"Please, Sam, it would mean the world to me," the brunette grabbed the blonde's hands.

Sam swallowed and nodded, biting her lip. "I would be honored," she joked, grabbing a breadstick.

Something in the back of my head said "keep cool. It'll be fine."

But the back of my heart was almost positive it should have been the other way around.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry if it's not the best; I wanted to get up to ten tonight. I will be attempting to post ten more chapters throughout the day tomorrow... later... ah, don't you hate when you stay up past midnight and aren't sure how to refer to the day? Well, anyway, I need to rest up so my fingers can write some more stories later! Haha! Keep reviewing, I read them all and can't thank you enough! Love y'all! xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own the DVD _Across the Universe,_ but not _iCarly_.**

* * *

After a painful luncheon in which the girls gushed over wedding details, Carly excused herself to the ladies' room. Sam and I were left alone at the table, and I was furious.

"How could you accept that?" I cried, my voice rising in volume and octave.

She shot me a look stuck her tongue out. I smirked. Same old Sam. "I know what I'm doing, Benson. Carly's my best friend, I owe it to her. Besides, we can't," she gestured between the two of us. "happen anymore."

My heart broke into a million pieces. "What if I leave her?" I gave an empty promise. I couldn't hurt Carly, even if I tried.

"You wouldn't," she commented with sad eyes. "You two were made for each other. The pretty boy always gets with the pretty girl."

"And where does that leave you?" I murmured, locked on her gaze.

"I'm the loveable tramp," she joked. Carly came back with a bright smile and newly powdered nose. "Can one of you give me a ride?" Sam asked, looking my way.

"Sure," I replied. We had to get to the office anyway; it was almost twelve-thirty. After a chaste kiss with Carly, the girls hugged and swapped numbers.

In the car, Sam blasted the music and folded down the top. She sang her heart out as we raced down the highway. A particular song came on shuffle and I glanced at her from the mirror. A slow grin spread across her lips as the words flooded out.

_"Did I tell you I knew your name  
But it seems that I've lost it  
Did I tell you it's my own game  
This is not your problem_

_I don't know if I'm gonna change_  
_Wasting time and another day_

_I keep running away  
Even from the good things_

_Did I tell you it's not that bad_  
_Sitting over here dreaming_  
_Did I tell you I'm right on track_  
_This time I mean it_

_I don't know if I'm gonna change_  
_Wasting time and another day_

_I keep running away_  
_Even from the good things."_

We pulled into the parking lot and she looked my way. "You still have that song on your phone?"

"Of course," I replied, remembering very well the memories tagged along with that tune. It had been playing when we first kissed. That song made me think of Sam, and I listened to it every night before I fell asleep.

"I listen to it, you know, every time before I fall asleep," she admitted. "I can't help it. It keeps me safe." I stared at her incredulously, wondering how alike we really were. "What?" she laughed nervously. "Did I say the wrong thing?"

"No," I whispered, unbuckling my seat belt. "You said the perfect thing," and I lightly touched my finger tips to her cheek.

"Don't," she whimpered, but gave in. She kissed me first. It was slow and steady, just lips to lips. After we separated she lightly blew on my lips, and I knew I needed to do something.

"Ready for your first day at work?" I poked her stomach and helped her out of the car. She nodded, and I took her through all the steps- taking her ID card picture, meeting the rest of the staff, and showing her around.

"Fancy," she commented. "Probably a little out of place," she motioned to her sweater and jeans.

I directed her toward the executive bathroom, and she emerged wearing a hip-hugging white pencil skirt and a cherry red blouse. "Professional enough for ya?"

I swallowed and nodded. She looked fantastic. "Okay, so here's your desk. This is your phone, and answer it as "Hello, Mr. Benson's office, how may I be of service?" She rolled her eyes. "You'll come in at 9 in the morning, I get here at 8:30, but since you live with me, you'll be waking up earlier," I smugly informed her. The phone rang.

With bated breath, I was wondering how Sam would react. Would she be a good assistant?

She sat down in the swivel chair, and delicately picked up the cordless. "Good afternoon, Mr. Benson's office, how may I be of service?" she spoke clearly and pleasantly. I couldn't help but chuckle. "One moment please," she put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered to me, "It's your mother."

With a red face I took it from her. "Hello, sweetums, who was that?"

"My new assistant, Ma."

"What's her name?" she asked. "I want to send her a fruit basket. You're terribly overworked, an assistant will do you some good."

"She's already done me a world of good," I smiled down at my blonde demon. "More than you'll ever know."

"That's great, sweetie. Text me the information, I will send it as soon as I can!"

I hung up with my mother and turned to Sam. "Okay, you see that list of callers?" She nodded. "If someone calls and they have a blue sticker, immediately direct them to me by pressing 1. Red means they can be on hold, and if someone yellow calls, tell them I'm not in at the moment and I'll get back to them. Always take a message. The post-it on the monitor has numbers to different places around town, like a great bagel place, pizza joint, and Chinese take-out. Feel free to order whenever you want."

"I think I'll be fine," she reassured me and ushered me to my office. "Go develop a phone that'll make me bacon," she smirked, and shut the door. I heard her heels click against the floor as she rushed to answer the phone. "Hello, Mr. Benson's office, how may I help you?" followed by a pause, and then, "I apologize, he's not in right now. May I take a message?"

This was going to be good.

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**A/N: 36 reviews? Holy ravioli! Thank you all so much, you mean the world to me! Hope you're enjoying this. I might not reach twenty by tonight... I know you'll hate me... but I have a system in which I will update as frequently as possible while I'm away. Keep reviewing and subscribing, I have a couple of surprises coming up that you'll absolutely love. Thanks lovelies! xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I have many loyal fans and reviewers and subscribers :') but I don't own iCarly.**

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The next day I took my break a bit earlier. I drove down to the news studio to surprise Carly with her favorite flowers- carnations. As the security guard tipped his hat to me, I made my way to her dressing room. I rapped at the door, but didn't receive an answer.

"Carly's out to lunch with Todd," Nicholas, the weatherman, informed me.

"Oh," I muttered, a bit upset. I wanted to see her. "Where'd they go?"

"The new Thai place on Fourteenth," he said, and turned the corner. "I hear they have great noodles."

I found the place pretty easily and told the hostess I was looking for Carly Shay. She's a local celebrity, so she's pretty recognizable. I spotted her with Todd and another man at the back of the room. Sneaking up behind her, I covered her eyes with my hands and whispered, "Guess who?"  
"Freddie?" she shrieked, surprised. She spun around and gave me a look.

"What, I can't surprise my fiancée?" She didn't look too pleased to see me at all. I glanced at the others- Todd was there with his usual snooty expression, but the chair next to him was now empty. I could've sworn someone else was there before…

"Of course, it's just, give a girl a little warning!" she chuckled, kissing my cheek.

"Then it's not a surprise," I replied, biting my lip in anger. She clearly didn't want me here. I dropped the bouquet on the table and turned to go.

"Freddie!" she called after me, but didn't budge an inch. I rolled my eyes. I was wasting my time.

* * *

A day went by without talking to Carly. I hadn't texted her, nor she to me. Sam was awfully quiet, and I barely saw her around the house. She slept on the couch, made me breakfast, and patiently waited for me in the car. It was strange; as if she was trying to avoid me but knew she couldn't. It wasn't as if she didn't like me or something, she was just distant.

On the second day of no Carly, I stepped out to see how Sam was at her desk. Gabriel, another senior developer, was sharing a laugh with her. A bit jealous, I laughed and walked on over. "Hey guys, what's so funny?"

"Nothing, we're just talking about lunch yesterday," Gabe smirked and straightened his tie. Apparently when I went to see Carly, Sam had a lunch date of her own. She seemed to shrink in the chair, but decided to have a little fun with it.

"Yeah, Freddie, Gabe took me to this Italian restaurant, and we had the best time," she stood up and touched his shoulder. With the other she toyed with her hair. "He kept telling the best jokes," she complimented him and turned to him. On her toes, she reached up and whispered in his ear. He laughed.

"What?" I spat, clearly annoyed now. She was trying to make me jealous, and it was working. I glanced down at my shoes. They were scuffed. An idea formed in my head. "Sam, I need you to run some errands for me."

"Right now?" she glared at me.

"Yes. Sorry, Gabe, she'll text you," as I directed him to the door.

"But I don't have her number!" he answered, taking out his phone.

"A pity," I replied, shutting the door in his face.

"What the fuck, Freddie?" she hissed, crossing her arms and stamping her foot.

"I didn't like the way he was looking at you," I shrugged. "And in here, I am Mr. Benson to you, and you will speak to me with authority," I was loving the power I had over Sam here.

"That's not your place, Mr. Benson," she angrily retorted, getting up in my face. "I can spend my free time with whomever I want."

"I'd rather you spend it with me, Sam," I stated, pressing our noses together. Sparks flew between our lips.

"You have your fiancée for that."

She had me there. I backed away, realizing how horrible I was. When did I become this guy?

"I don't know, Mr. Benson," Sam came back and patted my arm. Apparently I had said the latter out loud.

"I love Carly, don't get me wrong, but when you came back into my life I began to see we had a lot of unfinished business," I spoke softly and straightened my tie.

"It's a book we've had to close, Freddie," she seemed just as sad as I did.

"Maybe we've just moved onto another chapter."

"I can't hurt Carly. She was like my sister for all these years. I can't do this to anyone."

"You think I want to hurt her?" I slammed my fist down on the desk. "I'm marrying her!"  
She didn't flinch; she didn't waver. She simply whispered, "So don't hurt her. You can let me go, you did before."  
"I never let you go, Sam," I said, looking into those sea blue irises. "Every girl I've ever been with was always like you, blonde, strong, tomboy…"  
"So why Carly?" she choked out, putting on a brave smile.

"She's nothing like you." The girls were polar opposite. Blonde, brunette. Petite, curvy. Girly, tomboy. Preppy, tough. Innocent, guilty. Yin, yang. Sun, moon. Day, night. There wasn't any way around it. "I couldn't stand someone who reminded me of you, so I went in the opposite direction."

"She's better for you," she mumbled.

"Don't ever say that. You're too good for me, and don't you forget it."  
"I don't deserve you."

"Sam," I grabbed her thin, tanned face in my hands. "What do I have to do to prove to you that you are worth it?"  
"Stop cheating on her."

"You mean, break up with her?"

"No. Stop flirting with me," and with that, she picked up her handbag and strolled out the door. "I'm going on a break," her heels clicking against the floor with every step.

She left me alone with my thoughts and a ticket stub to pick up a suit from the dry cleaners. I crumpled the blue tab in my hand and felt the sharp ridges press into my hand.

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**A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Complaints! Lemme know, folks, I'm leaving today! I'm pulling an all-nighter to a) pack, and b) get eight more chapters up for y'all. Enjoy loves! xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I own an air-conditioner that I am so thankful for, but not iCarly. Talk about iBeat the Heat!**

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Sam didn't come back from her break. Not that I expected her to, I had really made a royal jackass of myself. I sat in my leather chair and sighed, resting my head against the soft, brown exterior. Kicking my feet up, I decided to check my email on my phone.

"Two new messages, Mr. Benson," my phone rang out. I smirked. I was the main developer on the app that enabled that, and I had chosen Gladys, the female voice, as my own. Keith was a bit too… masculine for me. I scrolled through my inbox until the familiar flashing red light appeared, signifying something new.

The first message was just an update on a conference in Tokyo. I didn't want to go, but was intrigued to find that a contract had been signed and we would be getting rare new software in our possession shortly. Smugly, I checked the next email.

It was from the bank. "Fredward Benson, we are worried that your credit card has been stolen or you may be a victim of identity theft. Numerous purchases have been made and large sums of money have been transacted using your card number. Because of this, your cards and account are temporarily frozen. If this is a mistake or you would like to find out more, please call us at your earliest convenience or visit us at your local branch. Thank you."

I hadn't used my credit card in days. Shit.

"Sam, cancel my meetings," I instructed, until I glanced at the desk. No one was there. I spent an extra twenty minutes calling up various other supervisors and clients, apologizing for my future absence. On my way out, Mona, Gabe's assistant gave me a weird smile.

"Honey, don't do that again. If your trollop is somewhere else, just holler for me and I'll come a-runnin' to fix your every need," she purred. Mona had always had a thing for me. We had dated briefly, just about a month, until she decided she didn't want a serious relationship. However, now and again she was always dropping hints that she wanted some more.

"Thanks, Mo," I replied, rushing out the door. The elevator could not have been slower. I rushed out and hopped in the car. The smell of Sam's perfume was still in the air. I didn't dare roll down the windows.

As luck would have it, there was a huge line for bank tellers. Impatient as could be, I kept glancing at my watch. "Now I would be introduced to the president of WatchFire," I sneered. "And now Holly from HR would be bringing us muffins and bagels, and fresh squeezed orange juice," I muttered. I loved what I did; tech was my thing. The perks like the personal bathroom, huge office space, and company ski lodges in the mountains was just icing on the cake.

Finally it was my turn. A short Asian woman with long black hair and bright pink lip stick greeted me. I explained the email I had received, and she called over the manager. I met with him in his office. Everywhere you turned, there was basketball paraphernalia. To the left were trophies; to the right were pictures. On his desk were bobble-heads of some notable Knicks players. Even his tie was orange and blue. "Knicks fan?" I asked, trying to strike up a pleasant conversation first to get him in a good mood.

"Yeah," he answered in a deep voice, putting his reading glasses atop his bald head. "I'm from the Bronx originally."

"No kidding? So's my Aunt Alyce!"

"Well how 'bout that?" he smiled down at me. He had a good half a foot on me, and his shoulders were broad enough to confuse him with any linebacker. His gray suit was stiff and professional. "Alright, Fredward," he looked up at me.

"Freddie's fine," I interrupted, hating my full name. I intend to change it one day to Frederick or Fred.

"Well, Freddie," he focused on me. "Large sums of money have been used rapidly over a short period of time. Specifically, since Saturday."

Saturday was the day of my bachelor party.

"Now, are you sure you didn't purchase anything strange or luxurious?"

"Not a thing, unless you could a mixed green salad with some unidentifiable veggies," I joked. "It was six ninety nine- too overpriced!"

He grinned and gave a hearty laugh. "Well, what we normally do in these cases is track the kinds of things purchased, where they were bought, and what time of day. That way, we attempt to catch whomever stole your identity."

"That sounds good to me," I agreed. I was informed the process would start first thing tomorrow morning. After shaking the manager's hand, I left the bank and just drove home. It was an hour earlier than I normally left.

Sam still wasn't in the apartment, and Carly still hadn't called. Not feeling very hungry, I slinked into bed and shut the lights. No use in staying up if you have nothing to stay up for.

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**A/N: I have failed y'all... I'm crashing. I got up to thirteen chapters, that's impressive, right? I'll be posting a lot less frequently over the next six weeks... hang in there though, I promise I won't forget. Hope you enjoyed this chapter- and get ready for some crazy twists! Love you all, keep reviewing and subscribing3 xo neon-greenshoelaces**


	14. Chapter 14

I woke up the next morning, feeling groggy and a sharp pain in my side. Crap. I had slept on my phone. What a glorious way to start the morning.

Shuffling into the den, I was surprised to see that the couch had been untouched all night. The blanket was thrown to the floor, and the sweats Sam had worn a few nights ago were still stuck to the rug. Classic Sam, never cleaning anything up. I wondered where she had gone, and thought to text her, but didn't want to seem too overbearing.

After a rushed bowl of cereal and gulping down some espresso, I realized that it was Thursday. Dave, the CEO had given us all the day off. His wife was going to be in labor any day now, and he wanted to be as home as much as possible. Nothing could be done without him, so we all said a quick thank you to pregnant women everywhere and locked up the office until next Sunday.

I jumped in the car, unsure of where I was headed. I found myself at Carly's apartment. I guess I needed to talk to her… considering that we were to be married in eight months. Since we started dating, this was the longest that we didn't speak. After letting myself in the front doors, I waited outside her apartment. She answered, wearing a silky robe and her hair a mess. "Freddie!" she whispered, biting her lip and looking down at her slippers. They were shaped like pigs and oinked when she took a step. So juvenile. So Carly.

"Hey," I replied, staring straight ahead. Her kitchen smelled like bacon. Carly hated bacon.

"Why does it smell like bacon?"  
"Oh, Todd's here," she answered. I grimaced.

"Todd? It's seven thirty in the morning!"

"Well, we wanted to have some personal time to plan the next special."

I heard laughter echoing from the room. "Who else is here?"

"Martha and Gianni," she squeaked, tightening the sash around her waist.

"Isn't it a little early for bullshit?" I pounded my open palm against the doorway. She looked frightened and grabbed my face with her delicate fingers.

"Baby, I don't lie to you," she purred. "I love you," and planted a kiss on my cheek. "You're my treasure chest, you're my beating heart, you're my-"

"Save it for someone who cares," I scoffed, turning away.

"Freddie?" someone called, and I spun around. Todd.

"What are you doing here, bro?" he chuckled, pounding my forearm. He didn't even punch the right place. Dumbass.

"More like what are you doing here in your pajamas?" I scanned him up and down. A white tee and flannel pants hardly seemed like appropriate clothes to plan a news special.

"It's like a big sleepover," he giggled, pressing his fingertips together. "I'd invite you in, but I know how Carly hates mixing business with pleasure," he mused, which brought a smirk to Carly's lips.

"What?" I sneered.

"It's true! He knows me!"

"Yes, I seem to know you very well, Carly," Todd faced me. What was up with this guy? "But so do you, Freddie."

"Well, yes. I'm marrying her," I stupidly responded.

"Oh, that's right! I almost forgot!"

I glanced down in embarrassment. Todd was making me feel so small and foolish. Slowly gazing back up, I stopped. My heart was pounding, and I felt my breath grow rapid. "Carly," I began, feeling the rage build up.

"Yes?" she quivered.

"I'll leave you two alone," Todd grinned, backing away. Carly took a step forward and shut the door behind her.

I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat. "Where's your engagement ring?"

Her face said it all. "I uh, took it off when I showered last night?"

"And you didn't put it on?" I reasoned with her, realizing what was happening.

"It slipped my mind, Freddie. I have other things to think about than the wedding!" she yelled, readjusting her robe once more. She stamped her foot, and an oink escaped the plush pig's snout.

"Like what?" I demanded.

"Like… my career!" she barked. "Like my dad, who's sitting away in a veteran's home playing canasta and counting down the minutes until he gets to leave that hellhole, pardon my French, to give me away! Like my brother, who sits everyday doing some boring cubicle job because he couldn't make it as an artist. Like your saint of a mother who calls me every other day to know if she can sterilize the venue! Like Sam Puckett, who suddenly waltzed back into our lives and is now my maid of honor!" she spat, gritting her teeth.

"If you didn't want her as your maid of honor, why did you fucking ask her, excuse my French?" I retorted.

"To get back at her! To prove that you're mine!" she confessed. "Because lately, I feel like all you're going to do is slip away," she admitted in a quiet voice.

"Why on earth would you think that?" I gaped at her. "Was it the way I thoughtfully surprised you at lunch the other day? Or forgiving your little Trent-the-stripper scandal? Hey, did the way I bought you a new tennis bracelet send the wrong idea? How about taking you to the park last week so you could feed the fucking ducks when you know that I find them to be vicious little creatures who snap their whiny little beaks at the seat of young boys' pants and tear them as they go into church for their communions!" my voice rose with fury. I was nothing but wonderful to her, and she repaid me with shit.

"No," she began, clenching the strip of fabric around her waist between her fingers. "It's the way you don't kiss me with spark any more. The way you zone out when I tell you something exciting that happened in my day. How you won't take off work for me, but you conveniently were off the day Sam came back…"

"Here it is again! Sam, Sam, Sam! Why does she bother you so much, Carly? Why?"

"Because people don't just disappear!" she explained. "I did a background check, you know!"

My blood ran cold.

"Nothing!"

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Nothing at all! For the past ten years she's been completely MIA! People don't just do that!" she snapped. "How do we even know that it's her?"

"Don't be ridiculous," I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe she's a criminal now. She might be after my money, or my fame, or your money!"

"How dare you say that about your oldest friend?" Who was she?

"She's not our friend anymore, Freddie! She got up and left you when you were together. She isn't your high school sweetheart anymore, Freddie. She was a delinquent. Her story seems too airtight. She's not perfect. Neither am I, but you're stuck with me. You chose me, Freddie Benson. You chose me," she was breathing heavily and fighting back tears.

"I know I chose you, Carly. I know that. I'm living with that choice every single day. I don't have her anymore, you're right. But if I wanted her, I'd have her. I love you," I yelled, trying to knock some sense into her thick skull.

"Do you?" she questioned me, retreating back into her apartment. "Do you really love me, Freddie?" She shut the door and locked it, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a burning desire to know the answer to that question.


End file.
